Disfigured Ending
by JiaPryor
Summary: JONAS; Two brothers, both faced with a gun pointing at their heads. Someone is bound to die. Blood may be thick, but will it be able to absorb the bullets?
1. Chapter 1

I watched him, silently, as he took his brand new pencil eraser, and took the round edge and drew circles on the wooden desk. The circle traced the pattern of the wood precisely. Nick's face was set in intense concentration; I knew to not go over and interrupt him. It would shatter my little brother.

The clock's hand turned, clicking simultaneously with the thumps of my tongue against the roof of my mouth. I resisted the strong urge to sigh and instead stole a glance over at my brother, Nick. In between his thumb and index finger, a curly lock of hair was being twisted. After his index finger had circled within the curl five times, Nick would tug hard on his tress and then scrunch his face up before he would repeat the process.

The clock read **1:32 p.m.** The middle of our high school day. We sat in etymology together because, as a junior who failed the sophomore opportunity to take the class, I failed it. Nick, on the other hand, was able to follow what the teacher said, and he had the advantage of having this perfect mind where he was always able to absorb anything set in front of him.

The screech of the white chalk against the blackboards drew our attention over to the teacher. "The root word _aur_. What does it mean?" His wide, dark eyes scanned the room. My head swiveled around, watching to see if any of the other students would raise his or her hand. "No takers, I presume?"

"Gold," I hear someone mutter. Their voice is small, yet loud enough for us to hear it without being able to identify it. My eyes wandered around the class in an attempt to find the source of the voice.

"Whoever said it," the teacher replied, "would you mind saying it so that the entire class could hear it?"

"The root word, _aur_. It means gold." I watched the words utter from Nick's mouth as he continued to twirl his hair. _Something's off with him_, I thought. I scrutinized his entire demeanor. I couldn't exactly pinpoint what was going on with him, but I knew that he didn't feel good about whatever it was.

"Mr. Bargs," I said as I raised my hand, "could I take Nick to the nurse? He looks like his blood sugar isn't cooperating with him." At this comment, Nick's head rises up, and his eyes meet mine. I silently tell him to not argue with me. Nick obediently gets up and gathers his things, as I do the same with mine. I make it to the door before him, holding it out as he approaches quickly.

"_Necro_, anybody?" The teacher questioned.

"Death." I hear Nick mumble the word before the door closes on us. My spine receives a tingle at his monotonous tone.

Once we make it into the hallway, I turn to position my body right in front of his. Nick's fingers rapidly drum against the side of his thigh as his eyes dart between me and the rest of the high school. "Calm down," I tell him gently. My palm rests itself on his arm, and I feel his body slightly tense up. Not the reaction I was anticipating.

"Something's gonna happen, Joe," Nick blurted out. I took a step away from him and blinked my eyes several times. He looks as if he contemplated on saying something else, but decided against it.

"…What?" I say, perplexed.

"Joe, I can tell. It's…" he bit his bottom lip and stared at the scuffed, tiled floor, "I don't know what it is, but it isn't good." He stared at me pleadingly, begging me to listen to him.

"Let's just go back into the classroom," I said as I retrieved our bags. I dropped the strap of Nick's Puma drawstring backpack into his outstretched hand and watched as his fingers slowly closed around it. I turn around to start retreating back inside, but I can sense that Nick isn't following me. I slowly turn back around and see that both of his hands are clenching his hair, and that his eyes are tightly squeezed shut.

I drop my bag once again and stare at him. Lightly tapping his cheek gently, I ask him if he's okay. He doesn't answer me until I've asked the same question about six times. "Joe! I need…I need to go home. Please?" His eyes shone with defeat and tiredness.

"Nick," I groaned not too loudly. "Why must everything be so difficult for you?"

He timidly shrugged his shoulders in response and pulled his backpack up to wear it should be: his back. I ruffled his head with the palm of my hand before I headed back towards the door. "Hey," I called to him, "just hang here for a sec', okay? I'm just going to tell him that I'm taking you home. Good?"

Nick nodded his head swiftly, and began to quickly pat his abdomen in a steady rhythm. Before I was able to reach the door to the etymology room, the fire alarm began blaring, filling the silent hallway with a loud, repetitious noise. Kids immediately began to flow from the classrooms in a panic.

Before a teacher could come out and organize my peers, a gun shot went off. Screams erupted from mouths, and I watched, heart wrenched, as Nick slid to the floor, covering his ears.


	2. Chapter 2

My backpack was ripped of off my back roughly, and I was sent careening forward with everybody else. I could vaguely see the outline of Nick's crouched figure and curly hair. I tried to fight my way over to him, but people created an impenetrable barricade.

On the PA, I heard our principal, Mr. Davis, shout, "Everybody, stay calm." Teenagers around him kept fighting their way towards the front of the building. "We need everyone to stop running and—" Another gunshot interrupted him and, if possible, made the students even more anxious to escape the tumultuous school.

A jumbled flow of students blocked my vision of Nick, and I furiously struggled to escape the horde and reach him. "Nick!" I screamed. Immediately, I knew it was useless; he wouldn't be able to hear me over everybody else's clamors. People shoved me closer towards the entrance, lengthening the distance between Nick and I. I hollered his name again in hopes of him hearing me.

More students pushed us forward; we were almost to the entrance. My feet stumbled over something which propelled me into the mass of people in front of me. I took a moment to glance down, and I saw Nick's trampled backpack.

_Maybe he's close,_ I thought. Once again, I yelled Nick's name into the crowd. Another gunshot went off, and this time, it was extremely close. The people around me abruptly stopped moving and crouched down while covering their heads. I took this moment to see if I could locate Nick. My feet pounded on the tile floor as my eyes scanned over all of the heads to see if any of them belonged to Nick. _God, please, just let me find my little brother. _

For some reason, it was eerily silent until another gun shot rang out, and a girl released a terrified scream. I turned around and saw a looming figure with bulk shoulders. I quickly noticed that multiple shots had been aimed at the same spot. On the bullet proof glass doors, there was a gaping hole. Thousands of translucent shards of glass littered the floor and some of the students. A rifle was held tightly in his hands, and he stared at me with a warped smirk.

"Run, kid!" he shouted. I stared at him in total confusion until I saw another man, less intimidating, quickly approach the man with a replica of the rifle. The scrawny man had the gun to the large man's head and had pulled the trigger before I could inhale a proper breath.

My brain was signaling my body to get out of the way of danger, but I was transfixed on the dead man. His eyes were agape, and the twisted smile was still etched on his face. A minute hole in his forehead was gushing blood out in an effusion.

"…oh my God," I said aloud before I had the chance to realize it. As the bulking man's body fell to the ground, it gave way for the lean man to set his eyes on me. His rifle was still raised from his killing just seconds ago. I took in his appearance: short red hair that was styled in a buzz cut, pale white skin, and an overlarge jacket and pants that consumed his wiry body frame.

I threw myself on an open area of floor and continued to stay low. A blood-curdling holler was released as the gun was shot once more. More screams followed. _Just let me find Nick. That's all I'm asking…please._ I felt the students around me try to shift further back, away from this killer. I remained on my hands and knees as I crawled around, still searching for Nick. Footsteps trailed behind me, and I crawled into the girls' restroom. I swiftly stood up to stop the door from swinging open and attracting unwanted attention. Carefully, I removed my shoes and silently padded over towards a stall.

The graffitied door was open slightly. I approached it and saw the tip of a green converse on the floor. My heart began to beat rapidly, threatening to pound out of my chest. "Nick?" I whispered gently. "Is that you?"

The inhabitant of the stall didn't answer. I heard quiet, quick murmuring. I listened carefully, and heard: "Someday, someplace, somewhere, sometime, I will be. Someday, someplace, somewhere, sometime, I will be."

My mouth stretched into a triumphant grin. Tears began to gather in my eyes, wanting to escape. I blinked them back. My hands had lightly pushed the door back, revealing Nick. His hands, with scrapes on his knuckles, were still covering his ears, and tear tracks were visibly evident on his cheeks.

I gripped him tightly and pulled him into my chest. "Oh my God, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I looked at him and noticed that he still hadn't opened his eyes. "Nick, are you okay?" He didn't respond. I asked once more, "Nick, are you okay?" I had to be conscious of the volume of my voice; it echoed within the restroom. "It's me, Joe. I'm here, okay? Don't worry." I gave a feeble attempt to coax him out of the current state he was in.

He opened his eyes, and they were slightly red and swollen. "Joe…I need to go home. I have to go, now. I need to go home." He kept repeating himself, his voice rapidly growing in urgency.

"Buddy, we can't go home just yet," I tried to soothe him. We both heard hollers, and then a round of gunshots were fired off. Nick sunk deeper into me, his whimpering increasing. Nick released his hands off of his ears and brought them up to his head of curls. He fisted his ringlets and held his breath. "Breathe, Nick," I demanded.

"I—I can't," he cried for the first time. "Joe, I can't do this. I can't."


	3. Chapter 3

Sometimes, I wish my brother wasn't diagnosed with autism as soon as he came out of my mother's womb. I wish he didn't have to not deal with the rude interactions with the other students. It deeply pained me to see my brother of fifteen years, crouched upon the toilet seat and panicking.

"Nick, buddy, can you listen to me for a second?" At this, Nick stopped his repetitive chant, but still held his hands firmly over his ears. "Please?" I waited a moment for Nick to settle down. Once he did, he flashed me a weary smile. "Listen good, okay?" Nick nodded his head slightly, and I continued, "It's not a fun place in here. We don't want to get hurt, now do we?"

Nick responded immediately, shaking his head furiously, his volume loud, "No. Oh, God, Joe. I don't wanna get hurt. Please protect me. I need to go home. Oh, God, I need home." Nick's breathing became erratic, his chest heaving rapidly.

I attempted to soothe him once more. "Calm down," I said firmly. Nick grunted and kicked the door. The collision of the metal echoed within the scope of the bathroom. "Nick," I said more forcefully as I took a firm hold of his shoulders, "you can't do that here. It's too dangerous to make noise like that. Do you want to die?"

Nick whimpered under my heated gaze, "I don't want to die. I just need to go home." My body abruptly went rigid with fear as I heard the door to the restrooms swish open.

Heavy footsteps thudded on the floor. I heard the door swing back and forth as it settled down. The man cocked his gun which caused Nick to dig his head further into my neck. "Shhh, be super quiet, okay?" I felt Nick inhale a deep breath to try to stop his whimpering. Carefully, I brought his leg up and steadied it on top of the toilet seat. I then hoisted myself up, cautious to avoid making any noise. My hand accidentally slipped on the toilet tissue roll. The cardboard roll rotating rapidly around the metal; it resonated within the bathroom.

_Oh, God, _I thought_, we're done for._


	4. Chapter 4

Time had slowed itself down to a crawl. My heart pumped frantically, trying to match the pace of my rapid yet silent breathing. My eyes darted all around the area of the minute confinement, trying, which I knew was physically impossible, to find a way to escape. I swallowed, struggling to move my saliva against the bulging lump in my throat. I found my self subconsciously licking my lips every few seconds out of pure anxiousness.

"I know somebody's in _hur_," the man coaxed. "Come on," he said in his crazed voice, "if you come out now, I'll make it quick." I could imagine a sadistic smile plastered to his face, his wiry body shaking with the pleasure of knowing he was about to make a kill. Nick threaded his fingers through his hair, his face contorting in fear with every word the man spoke. I patted his head comfortingly, and motioned to him to remain silent.

_How in the world are we both staying on top of this toilet?_ Ithought_. By the grace of God. _

"Damn it!" the man exclaimed. "Somebody had better get their asses out of here. I don't have all fucking day." At his abrupt loudness, Nick whimpered involuntarily. Suddenly, the restroom had been rendered eerily quiet. "…that's more like it," he spoke up. Out of nowhere, a procession of shots rang out in the area, and Nick's form tensed. The sound of footsteps drew nearer to our huddled position in the stall. "Come on out, _boys_." How could he possibly know that Nick and I weren't girls?

Abruptly, Nick's foot slipped from its position on the edge of the toilet seat. His eyes widened substantially, and, through thinking quickly, he rapidly retracted his foot. Sweat was pouring down my forehead, seemingly coming in tidal waves. My eye lids blinked in an attempt to cease the sweat from rolling into my eyes. Gazing at Nick, I realized that he was perspiring just as much as I was. His curls were matted to his forehead, no longer curly locks, but wavy. I released a breath I had been holding in, but just as I did so, I saw the man's feet at the bass of our stall door.

He knocked once. "Is anybody home?" He asked cynically. I could hear his tongue click against the roof of his mouth impatiently.

Even though I was cognizant that he knew we were stationed in here, I signaled for Nick to remain silent. _Just maybe, he won't both with us. There's an entire school campus filled with hundreds of students, _I reasoned to myself_. Why would he want us two? We're nothing special._

"Come on!" He banged the door louder. The feeble stall walls trembled against it. "Open the damn door. This is your last chance, you dirty bastards."

Nick and I refused to budge; he would have to force the door open. We weren't going to voluntarily hand our lives over.

We would fight for them.

* * *

**REVIEW TIME!**

**Please? **

**I love writing this. I PROMISE, that next chapter, there will be LOADS of pain for our boys. And yes, Kevin will be coming into the story. :)**

**_- Jia Marie _**


End file.
